The Cupcake Coven (18 page)

“He might have gotten you confused with someone else.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”
But he must have been pretty darn sure if he was racing after me.

Mike squeezed her hand. “Well, I should let you go inside. It’s a shame they don’t allow public displays of affection, or I’d kiss you goodnight.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“See you tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah, but maybe a little later. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

He grinned. “You’re plenty beautiful, but I guess I may not have let you sleep very much last night.”

“Uh huh. Want to stop by around noon?”

“Okay. I’ll take you out to lunch. How’s that?”

“Sounds great. Thank you.” She gave his hand an extra squeeze, then strolled inside the shelter.

“April,” Gus, one of the case managers exclaimed. “We thought you’d left.”

“Left? Without saying goodbye? No way. I was just with Mike last night. I called Mrs. Reese.”

“Oh. I haven’t spoken to her today. Well, I’m glad you’re back in one piece.”

“How many pieces were you expectin’ to see me in? He ain’t that rough.”

Gus reared back and laughed. “So, things are going well, huh?”

She shrugged. “I guess so. I just wish I knew if I was cheatin’ on anybody.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “I wish I knew what to tell you.”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll talk to Mrs. Reese tomorrow. But right now, I’ve gotta wash some clothes, or I’ll have to go around butt naked.”

A young man about her age was passing by at that moment. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Yeah, like you and everyone in here could scrape together enough money.” She laughed.

He shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

Gus leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Do you want me to speak to him about his remark?”

April waved away the very thought. “Nah. He was just makin’ a joke.”

Gus straightened and smiled, probably relieved that he didn’t have to confront someone on sexual harassment and make a big deal out of nothing. “We sure will miss you when you do leave. I wish everyone could be as easygoing as you are.”

She thanked him and went off to do her laundry, but something sat uncomfortably with her. Had she overstayed her welcome? Did they have some kind of time limit? She’d never heard of one, but it was possible they hadn’t mentioned it—maybe to avoid putting more pressure on her.

She really had to find out about her past. If the guy from the bakery knew something about her, it was even more important to see him as soon as possible.

All night Dru had been nearly inconsolable over finding—and losing Shasta. Rebecca watched him out of the corner of her eye as they got dressed. It was the first night they hadn’t made love since he’d moved in. She completely understood that a man’s emotional state could affect his performance, and a failure in that area was much worse than waiting for the storm to pass. Just holding him and letting his mind work things out in peace seemed like the right thing to do.

“Thanks for your understanding and support last night, darlin’.”

“I didn’t do much.”

He shrugged. “You could have told me to take a walk and cool off when I was losing my shit. But you didn’t.” He grasped her arms and gazed into her eyes. “You stayed with me.”

“Of course I did. What kind of person deserts a friend in need?”

He pulled her into his arms and caressed her back. “A lot of people. That’s why there’s a name for it…a fair-weather friend.”

“Well, consider me your all-weather friend.” She smiled up at him.

“Sounds like a tire commercial.”

His lips descended upon hers and they shared a long, languorous kiss. Heat sprang up between them and he threaded his fingers through her hair, and her own body responded, melding herself to him.

She wished they had more time, but the bakery needed to open and close at the same times each day. She’d had to close a little early yesterday and an unreliable reputation wouldn’t help matters. Before they got too carried away, she pushed on his chest and stepped back.

“We can’t.”

He wiped his mouth, still wet from her kiss. “I guess we should have set the alarm a little earlier.” He smiled sadly. “Tonight, then.”

“Count on it.” She was wearing one of her long skirts today.
Who knows…maybe a quickie in the kitchen, later.

They tromped down the stairs to the kitchen. Dru set the large coffee pot in the sink under the tap and watched as Rebecca donned her apron and preheated the ovens.

“Gonna make more muffins this morning?”

“I thought I’d try out some mini coffee cakes. I was actually dreaming up the recipe in my sleep last night, but there’s one problem I couldn’t figure out a solution to.”

“What’s that?”

“I have the old muffin pans from back when people wanted huge muffins. I wish I could roll up a piece of cardboard or something and have you hold it in the middle while I pour the batter around it. Then I’d sprinkle the brown sugar, walnut, and cinnamon filling, then top it off with some more batter.”

“How would you keep the cardboard from fallin’ over or burnin’ up? I wasn’t plannin’ to hold them all while they’re baking.”

Rebecca laughed. “That was the problem I couldn’t solve—if only I could think of something to use in the middle. When they’re baked, I’d set them on a plate upside down and drizzle a glaze on top that would run into the middle as well as over the outside.”

He laughed. “Seriously? It’s not enough that you spend all day in the bakery, but you can’t even get away from dreaming of work in the middle of the night?”

She smiled and shrugged. “I guess not.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I thought I might try using an apple corer after they’re baked. That will make the hole in the middle.”

“I imagine I’ll be takin’ some of those middles out as lunchtime samples.”

She smiled. “Like donut holes! You’re brilliant! Since it’s a new item, I can see which sells better.”

“Sure.” He was grinning at her.

“What?”

“You. Just you.”

She smirked. “I’m in bake mode now.” She scurried around gathering her ingredients and supplies.

“While you’re doin’ that, I’ll get the coffee goin’.” He turned on the water full blast and they worked together in tandem as if they’d been doing it for years.

As often happened when Rebecca’s guard was down, her mind wandered to what it would be like when Dru found his sister and took her home to Texas. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that he’d find her. It sounded as if he’d come close yesterday. Heartbreakingly close.

He hadn’t said ‘I love you’ since that night in the shower, but that was her fault. She’d told him not to. And as he so logically pointed out, not saying it wouldn’t make it go away. Not saying it certainly hadn’t stopped her from feeling it.

But if she had to let him go, what good would it do? Speaking the words or simply feeling them, either way, he was going to leave her and it was going to hurt.

Dru finished getting the coffee pot ready and plugged in. It started softly percolating. Rebecca had her batter ready to go and shoved the large bowl under the industrial mixer, then tipped its head down like a Saber tooth tiger taking a drink.

As the mixer whirled and squealed, she measured out the brown sugar, chopped walnuts and mixed them together with the cinnamon. Then she greased her pans.

Dru took a seat and opened the book Hanna had given him. “Don’t they make pans with the little metal part inside?” Dru asked.

“Yeah. They’re called Bundt pans, but I’ve never seen any this size.”

“You’re not one of those women who can’t throw in the towel and say, ‘Oh well, we tried,’ if a concept doesn’t work, are you?”

She chuckled. “Why? Do I seem that stubborn?”

He smiled with raised eyebrows as if apologetic. “Uh, yeah. If the way you’re hangin’ on to your home and livelihood are any indication.”

She stuck a hand on her hip and faced him. “What would you suggest I do differently?”

“Nothin’.” He held up his hands. “Not a gosh darn thing. Well, unless you’re talking about these coffee cakes. Then I suggest you find a readymade pan and forget messin’ with the middles.”

She placed the pan in the oven and set the timer. “If these come out well, which I doubt they will, let’s not use them as samples until I find those nonexistent pans. I can see the middles falling apart as soon as someone picks them up.”

“Maybe you can have the pans custom made.”

She stared at him. He was actually serious. “Custom anything costs more money than I have at the moment. Maybe down the road…”

He quieted and returned to the coffeepot. “Coffee’s ready. I’ll take this out front.”

“Wait on that a minute,” she said. Sidling up to him, she hiked up her skirt and wrapped her leg around him. Glancing at the timer she said, “We have twenty minutes, if you want to, um…”

He grinned. “I’m not sure what you’re referrin’ to, ma’am.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I do.” Meanwhile, he was unbuckling his belt.

“You just want me to say it.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Okay…ravage me. Take me on the floor, the table, anywhere but the countertop. I’m pretty sure that’s a health violation.”

Dru grinned and turned her around. Then he yanked one of the little chairs out of the way and bent her over the bistro table. Before she had a chance to help, he flipped up her skirt and slipped off her panties. To his credit, he gave her a reach-around, making sure she had an earth shattering orgasm first, then slipped two fingers in to test her wetness and stretch her before he plunged in.

“Ahhh…” she sighed.

She’d been wishing she’d taken him up on the morning tryst idea ever since she’d decided opening on time was more important.

Something he’d been holding back seemed to unleash. Usually gentle, this time he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust, then rammed in and out of her with wild abandon. Rebecca was surprised, but not displeased. Not in the least. Her clit rubbed the table in the most delicious way. Soon she could feel another climax building.

She grabbed onto the table’s opposite edge and held on, relishing the ride of her life. Before she knew it, she shattered into a million pieces, screaming unintelligibly. Dru jerked hard as they sailed over the edge together.

Rebecca’s whole body quivered. Dru collapsed on top of her, which was actually helpful. Her knees had liquefied, and if she tried to stand, she’d melt onto the floor. He anchored her there until their breathing had returned to normal and her legs were just rubbery enough to hold her.

“Whew!”

“Yeah,” she agreed, breathlessly.

He withdrew and grabbed two dishtowels. “I hope I didn’t hurt you. I figured you’d let me know if I did.” Dru wiped himself off with one of the towels. The other he handed to Rebecca.

“You’re right. I would have.” She cleaned up and tossed the towel on the floor.

Without a word, they met each other’s lips as if they were magnetized. Sharing a long, passionate kiss seemed to punctuate their lovemaking with an exclamation point.

The timer dinged and they broke apart. Rebecca noticed beads of sweat on Dru’s brow and wiped his forehead. Then she licked her fingers. “Mmm…salty.”

He chuckled and said, “I’d better splash some cold water on my face before I accidentally salt the next batch of dough.”

A hard knock on the door alerted both of them, and they snapped their gazes to the clock. It was still fifteen minutes before they were due to open.

Rebecca covered her mouth. “Oh, no. Do you think someone heard me scream and called the police?”

Dru burst out laughing. “Sorry, hon. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’ll go. At least they’ll see I’m alive and well…glowing in fact.” She smiled and strode to the front door.

A gentleman in a suit with a clipboard stood outside.

Damn. Not again. I thought the sigil was supposed to prevent the mob from bothering me.
She stood there, arms crossed glaring at the man outside. He stepped up to the door, and waited.

“We’re not open yet,” she yelled through the glass.

He held up a business card and shouted, “Health inspector.”

Oh, fuck!

She scrambled to open the door quickly. Just what I need. A surprise health inspection.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please come in,” she said and took his business card. Yup. The guy was from the state health department.

“What brings the
state health inspector
here?” she said loud enough for Dru to hear—she hoped.

“Nothing in particular. It’s just a routine spot inspection.”

“Well, I try to keep the place spot free,” she said and aimed her best smile at him.

“Hmmm.” The guy tucked his clipboard under his arm and said, “Let’s begin with the kitchen.”

“Certainly, sir.”

She led the way, hoping beyond hope that the place didn’t reek of sex, and that Dru had hidden the spermy towels that hit the floor, ugh, not to mention her panties!

As they rounded the corner, she saw Dru using a paper towel and spray cleaner to wipe the floor where her panties and the dish towels had been.

“Sorry,” he said. “I dropped an egg.”

“Mr…” Rebecca glanced at the business card, “Mr. Cressenger, this is my employee, Dru Tanner. He’s kind of a jack of all trades.”

Dru gave his hand an extra wipe on a fresh paper towel and extended his hand. The health inspector ignored him and began wandering through the kitchen. He turned on the water taps and jotted some notes. He opened refrigerators, checked temperature gauges and jotted down more notes.

Rebecca stood by, wishing she could give Dru a nod of thanks, but she didn’t dare until the health inspector left.

“How many other employees do you have?”

“Um…at the moment, none.”

He whirled on her. “None? It’s just the two of you from now until closing?”

“Well, that’s a temporary situation. I’m hiring another baker soon.”
I hope.

“I never knew health inspectors got involved in personnel issues,” Dru said.

Don’t challenge him, Dru. Don’t challenge him…

The guy scrutinized Dru from the top of his tousled hair to the tips of his scuffed cowboy boots. “Only if it affects the quality of the food.” He looked at Dru as if he were a dirty floor.

Rebecca grabbed the guy’s arm. “Here, let me show you my storeroom.” She steered him away and opened every cubby and closet, hoping he’d be satisfied with her clean metal shelving and separate stores of non-refrigerated fruits, decorations and dry ingredients.

When he was finally finished inspecting and recording all there was to see in the kitchen, he proceeded to the storefront.

Dru was wearing non-latex plastic gloves and condensing the various pastries to make room for more. That was something he did every morning. Thankfully, he’d remembered to wear an apron—which he didn’t do regularly.

The inspector recorded the temperature of her wet and dry display cases and inspected the food.

“Would you like to try a pastry?” Rebecca offered.

“Not right now. How often do you wash these trays?” the guy asked Dru.

“Each time they empty out. I’m sure we kill any kind of bacteria known to man,” he said. “We have a very hot dishwasher.” He turned and winked at Rebecca.

Rebecca appreciated his humor, but hoped the inspector didn’t notice and take it the wrong way.

Mr. Cressinger lifted the corner of some wax paper and peaked under it. “It’s unusual to use plastic trays. Most bakers use the same type of metal trays they bake with.”

“I couldn’t afford extras when I started out. I can probably buy enough to keep some out here and still have plenty in the kitchen now.”